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by aduirne



Category: Sevenwaters Trilogy - Juliet Marillier, Son of the Shadows
Genre: Anglo Saxon England, Forced Marriage, Gaelic names, Harrowfield, Picts, Scotland, Slow Burn, early medieval England/Scotland
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aduirne/pseuds/aduirne
Summary: Elspeth finds herself under the protection of the Bran and Liadan when she escapes an abusive fiance.  She is found by one of Bran's men- Hawk.  The two of them form a bond that gives them both what they never thought they'd have again.I've loved The Sevenwaters Series since it came out.  My favorite book is Son of the Shadows which I read for the first time while visiting Ireland.  Bran and Liadan's characters have always been dear to me since then.  This is a story I've had rattling around in my head for years and I finally began to write it down.  I've tried to keep names as close to what they might have been in early medieval England and Scotland.For more background information on the Sevenwaters series and a summary of the books, I recommend checking out Juliet Marillier's website.  Also, be sure to look around the web for some amazing fan created art of her characters.





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**Author's Note:**

> Gaelic pronunciations are not for the weak. I'm a Gaelic class drop out, but my teacher is pretty forgiving. (Thank you Scott). Here is the best approximations I could find for the names of people and places:
> 
> Elspeth- pretty much sounds like it looks. It is the Scottish version of Elizabeth
> 
> Aedre -the best I could find is Adree. It means stream.
> 
> Dearmhagh- Darwah which translates to "oak plain."
> 
> Seòras-SHO-ras a Gaelic version of George

Hawk

Hawk found the boy by the stream  He was face down in the mud and stone, his head a hand’s-breadth away from the water.  Perhaps he had stopped for a drink and lost his balance.  The banks everchanging landscape could be a challenge even for someone as experienced as him.  He turned the boy over to see his hot, flushed face and pressed the back of his hand against the boy’s forehead.  His skin was on fire.  Suddenly, the boy’s eyes opened, wild and unseeing fever bright. He said something incomprehensible before slipping into unconsciousness again.  Hawk scooped him up, noting how slight and small he was.  He couldn’t have been more than twelve and he was a puny twelve at that.  He wondered if he was a tenant from a neighboring settlement.  Not everyone was as good to theirs as The Chief.  It had not been a promising harvest.  Liadan had been visiting many homes with food and medicine this early in the autumn.  It didn’t bode well for the winter.

The hat the boy had on fell as he was picked up- and a long braid fell across one shoulder and dangled over his arm.

So not a boy.

Hawk pursed his lips and regarded her face.  Her face was flushed with fever.  Her eyes rolled wildly under their lids.  He should take her up The Hall, but it would be dark very soon.  His own shelter was closer.  Letting out a sigh, Hawk began walking across the stones that served as a bridge to his home.

If someone were to look for Hawk’s home, they would be hard pressed to find it.  Set in the rocky hillside, it was part cave, part earthworks mound.  A tree had begun to sprout from the roof a few years ago.  The entrance was hidden by bushes.  The only giveaway that anyone was living in the mound was the wisp of smoke trailing out of a small hole.  There were also trip wires, traps, and other ways of keeping intruders out.  Hawk had no reason to suspect anyone of intruding, but old habits die hard.  His life with The Chief had taught him to never take anything for granted, to always look over your shoulder, and have several back up plans because nothing seemed to turn out as it should.

Getting the girl inside the narrow opening had been a challenge.  Once in, he laid her on the blanket covering soft moss and grass that served as his bed.  He lit the fire, poured some water in a small cup, and tried to get the girl to drink.  Then he called Beann to his door.  The crow appeared in a few seconds, ready to settle in for the night.  He regarded Hawk incredulously when asked to carry out a favor so close to meal time and sleep, but after preening himself for a moment to appear as if he was considering Hawk’s request, he took off cawing toward The Hall.  Liadan wouldn’t be able to come tonight probably, but she’d show up in the first morning light with her remedies.  Hawk pictured the small woman’s strong, sure step as she made her way into the forest, her dark hair always pulled up in braids and fastened securely.  The mistress of Harrowfield was a force of nature.  She had won Bran’s heart the first time he laid eyes on her, they said.  Her son Johnny, was the child of the prophecy.  Hawk like everyone else who knew her (including recalcitrant Beann) respected and adored her.  Liadan would have something to bring down the fever.  Liadan would know what to do.

Elspeth

It had been almost three weeks since she had run away.  Her food had run out long ago.  She had no idea where she was going.  When she had left, fingering her mother’s ring on its chain as she ran, she had been so sure.  Now, her clothes were torn and dirty, she hadn’t eaten anything substantial unless pilfered eggs and roots counted, and she was lost.  Terribly, irrevocably lost.  Was this better than a force marriage in her own home?  Better than the beatings she knew Aymer would have given her?  She didn’t know.  At least there, she had Annas and Broccin. Now she had no one. 

She was so very tired and thirsty.  She knew being in the forest at night was not the best choice, but perhaps she’d find some late berries or nuts.  And she swore she heard the faint gurgling of water.  There had to be a burn just beyond these trees.  There just had to be.

A root tripped her and sent her flying.  She was getting clumsy from exhaustion and lack of food.  She needed to be careful.  If she broke her leg, she’d die.  The nights were getting longer and colder.  She lie there, fall asleep, and never wake up.  Considering the current state of things, Elspeth began to think that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. 

No!

She was not going to give Aymer or his uncle the satisfaction of dying.  She was going to keep moving until she found that water.  Once she quenched her thirst, she’d feel better.   A cold sweat creeped over her skin.  That was strange.  Why was she feeling so hot when it was so cold out? 

The water.  The sound was louder now.  Just around the bend…and then she tripped again and went sprawling in the mud.  She managed to get herself close enough to the stream to put small handfuls into her mouth.  It was cold and full of silt.  It was the most wonderful thing she’d ever tasted.  Once sated, she tried to get up but found it was impossible.  The trees in their fall colors spun around her in a riot of color.  She reached for a falling leaf as it settled near her, thinking it was the color of her mother’s hair.  Then she knew nothing else.

She woke up on her back, bathed in sweat.  She could feel the heat radiating off her skin.  A small fire was not far away, and she could hear the shuffling of someone out of her line a vision.  She attempted to lift her head, but the throbbing pain that shot through it made her quickly stop.  A face came into view over her and she stifled a scream.  It was a creature from one of Broccin’s late night tales meant to scare the children.  Dark hair tumbled over a brow etched with blue lines, suggesting feathers of some sort.  The lines went down the creature’s nose looking a bit like a beak.  She couldn’t tell in the low light.  The lines began to waver and dance on its face which caused her to cry out. Her head pounded in response.  She was trapped in this monster’s lair.  She’d be killed and eaten, just like in Broccin’s stories…a hand, equally embellished with feathery lines reached out as if to placate her.  Gray eyes looked at her with concern under thick, dark brows.  Even without the markings, he’d have been unusual looking.  His skin was pale under the tattoos.  It contrasted with almost black curling hair.  The eyes that looked at her were not those of a monster.  Monsters didn’t try to calm their prey.  Then he spoke.

_I am not going to hurt you.  I found you by the stream burning with fever.  You are in my shelter.  I have cool water to help with the fever and some broth if you think you are up to drinking it.  You are near Harrowfield Hall and the mistress there is a healer.  I sent word to her tonight.  She will bring something to get that fever down tomorrow.  Here, drink some water.  You must be thirsty.  You are burning up._

The man reached under her which caused Elspeth to stifle another cry.  She had sworn no man would ever touch her again.  Yet, this man was gentle with her.  He held a small wooden cup to her lips and she drank gratefully.  When she had slaked her thirst, he carefully lowered her back down and produced a wet cloth to put on her head. 

_Until Liadan comes, this is the best I can do for you.  We are going to try and get that fever down as much as we can tonight though.  Your clothes are soaked through.  Do you think you can manage to get into something dry if I gave it to you?  I will step out if you can do it yourself.  I think you’d feel better in dry, clean clothes._

She nodded and he rummaged around in a corner, producing a long tunic.  It was the color of the earthen walls around her.  It would most likely go way past her knees from the looks of it.  The man was big.  He moved to the almost hidden door and stepped out. 

Changing was agony.  Her head felt ready to split in two, but she was desperate to get out of the filthy wet clothes.  Once she was settled, she lay down trying to catch her breath as a new sheen of sweat broke out on her brow.  The man came back in and carefully folded her old things. 

_Burn them._

It came out as a croak.  He regarded her for a moment and continued to fold.

_They are well made.  I’m sure we can salvage with some cleaning and mending.  I’m not inclined to be wasteful.  If you don’t want them, there are boys in the village who would like them._

She nodded and closed her eyes.  A cool cloth covered her brow once more and she drifted off to sleep.

She was back in the hall of her childhood home, running for the door as Aymer chased her.  She had managed to cross the threshold when he grabbed her by her braid and her head snapped back with a crack as he pulled her close to him.

_You don’t have a choice in this, Elspeth. You think you are cunning and clever, but you are stupid just like your dear mother.  I know about the messages you sent.  They never made it beyond the boundaries of these lands.  No one is coming to your aid, do you hear me?  You are mine, this hall will be mine, as will the lands, the cattle, and every blade of grass.  You don’t have a choice.  I will get you to consent if I have to drag you by your pretty hair.  I have been patient long enough.  We are going to be wed, so you might as well start submitting to your future husband now.  It is your duty, and the law.  Wipe that look off your face before I am forced to do it myself._

_His mouth had mashed against her, greasy and sour from the night’s meal and mead.  He had pressed her against the wall, pushing his knee between her legs as he began to paw at her breasts through her clothes.  She had screamed and scratched the side of his face, her nails grazing his eye.  He staggered back crying out and she had run up to her bedchamber, barring the door as he roared up the steps bellowing her name._

She woke up soaked in sweat, her head ready to burst and her mouth dry and cracked.  The man was next to her, trying to calm her as she shot forward, waving her arms and crying out.  She was burning up, hotter than before.  He scooped her up and took her outside.

Hawk

It was the only thing he could think to do with her.  She was delirious with fever and he feared she’d not make it through the night if they didn’t get it down.  He’d seen fever carry off the most hale and healthy men in a matter of days.  This young woman was already underfed and weak.  If he didn’t act fast, she’d be gone before Liadan came in the morning.

There was a pool fed from an underground spring not far away.  He managed to get her there and dipping a cloth into it, he dabbed the icy water over her prone form and attempted to dribble some between her now cracked lips.  She licked them before sputtering as the water hit the back of her throat.  Her fever bright eyes opened and she called out a name, her arms reaching for the figure only she could see before she became still again.  Hawk continued to wipe her with the cloth, hoping it would do something.  He kept checking her forehead as he worked.  The cool air began to make her shiver. 

 _Oh no_ now he’d have the opposite problem.  He’d kept her out too long and she was chilled.

Somehow he managed to get her back into the bed despite the spasms that rolled through her body.  Her teeth chattered as she began to shake all over, crying out the same name as before.  He really wished Liadan was here.  She’d know what to do.

When the shivering didn’t stop and he worried the girl would bit her tongue with her teeth clacking away, he began to bundle her in the skins he had near the bed.  Still shaking, the girl began to let out a pitiful cry.  Hawk finally laid beside her and held her tight, whispering to her that it was going to be fine.  They just had to make it to morning.

It had been a very long time since he had held someone.  He closed his eyes, trying to block out the last time.  Even after all these years, it was a wound that threatened to tear open and leave him raw and bleeding.  Hawk took a deep breath.  He couldn’t think about himself now.  He had to keep this girl warm, keep her alive until sunrise.  He continued to speak to the girl, hoping his voice would reach her.

Elspeth

She woke up curled on her side wrapped in what appeared to be animal skins.  Their soft musky scent filled her nose as she tried to remember where she was and how she had gotten there.  She could make out the remnants of a fire, its last embers glowing softly.  That was the only light besides a small hole above through which a weak morning light streamed.  Once her eyes adjusted, Elspeth could make out the earthen walls, the pile of her folded clothes, and a small cup by her side.  The rest of the shelter was in shadows.  She took in the scent of the place, a combination of wet stone, dry leaves, and smoke.  It was strangely comforting.  It was not like her home at all.

She didn’t remember all the details of last night.  There had been the raging heat of her fever, cool water on her face, the chills that had spasmed through her body…and a man who looked like a bird.  A big soft-spoken man with dark hair.  She wondered if she had dreamed it all.

The man in question came into view and with him was a small woman with intense eyes and a basket over her arm.  She told the girl she was Liadan, the mistress of this place.  She was also a healer.  The man went outside and the two of them were alone.  Elspeth regarded the woman with fear. 

_Don’t be afraid of him.  He’s a kind man.  It was he who told me you were here.  He said he found you yesterday near the stream, dressed as a boy and very ill.  With your permission, I’d like to examine you.  We’ve had a wasting sickness in the village that comes with a fever and a rash. It seems as if your fever broke in the night, so that is a very good sign. However, I’d like to see if you have the rash anywhere on your body.  Don’t worry, Hawk isn’t here.  It is just you and me.  Will you allow me to take a look at you?  We can stop if you get too uncomfortable._

Somehow this woman knew.  She knew Elspeth was afraid to be touched.  Somehow, she knew what she had been through. 

Elspeth nodded mutely as Liadan began to examine her.  She lifted her hair to see if there was a rash on her neck, and asked her to lift her tunic so she could see if there was a rash anywhere else.

With shaking hands, Elspeth lifted. 

Liadan struggled to keep from gasping at what she saw.

Bruises marked the girl’s torso and chest.  They had faded to a sickly yellow and green after all these weeks, but what remained were the scars.  Someone had scratched and burned her arms and legs.  Traces of a rope burn circled one of her wrists.  The marks on her body showed a pattern of abuse that had gone on for months, maybe even years. 

Liadan helped the girl put the tunic back in place.  She did her best to hide her reaction to what she’d seen. 

_No rash, which is another good sign.  I would still like to get you up the main house.  We can fashion a travois to get you up there.  You are in no condition to walk or sit up on a horse.  Then we can get some food in you and you can rest.  I’m thankful Hawk found you when he did.  He may be a bit unusual looking, but he is a good man._

Liadan

She had seen signs of abuse before.  She remembered how battered her own Bran had been after his rescue.  But Bran was a warrior and a skilled assassin.  This was a girl of no more than sixteen.  No wonder she was in disguise and on the run. 

By the quality and cut of her original clothes, the girl was of some means.  There was also the gold ring on a string that she had around her neck.  She was lucky it hadn’t been lost on her travels.  Outside of a few weeks living rough, it was clear to Liadan that the girl’s hand were not those that had worked in fields or done any kind of hard labor.  Yet the bruises and scars spoke of sustained abuse. Who would do this to someone of her standing?  Surely whoever she was, someone was looking for her-perhaps the same someone who had hurt her.  If that was the case, they would have to keep the girl’s presence as quiet as possible.  She didn’t want word to get back to whoever had done those awful things.  She’d talk to Bran about it.  His network of men would find out where she was from.  And if she knew her husband, Bran would make sure the person who hurt this girl would pay.


End file.
